Leftover snow

I received a search report from Google today. It was because the most popular search term for my blog had changed. For the period 1–7 April, it was ‘FSI Blog’. I thought this was quite odd. I mean, how many people could be searching for ‘Fox Shit Incident’, let alone know of my acronym. Obviously, it needed some investigation.

It seems that ‘FSI Blog’ has nothing to do with small dogs rolling in excrement. No, it stands for Free Sexy Indians and refers to Indian porn sites. When I read that, I laughed so much that Freya fell off my lap.

Specifically, there’s a guy called ‘The Porn Dude’ who has gathered together a bunch of Indian porn sites and reviewed each one on his FSI Blog. I’m not sure who would read any of the reviews but I guess it’s a handy index when you can’t be bothered doing your own searching. I feel sorry for anyone landing on my blog when searching for a bit of Desi dirty dancing. Unless they like rolling in fox shit, I guess.

Anyway, it was a cheerful way to start my day. Not that I needed cheering up. It was another lovely day with sunshine and warmth, which made this field of leftover snow seem a bit odd.

It’s the remains of the snow cannon output. Back when the ski slope was operational, there was a huge pile of it here, and now it is very gradually disappearing. Fortunately, the girls didn’t see it on our walk, otherwise, I’m certain that Emma would have rolled in it, possibly combining snow with an FSI.

Someone we saw was Anna boom-boom as she set off on a walk.

It was a bit odd because I’d thought of her as we left the house. She said that she often walks around Mount Trosa (she lives just down the road from us) but I’d never seen her. This week I’ve seen Beth a couple of times, Holger and the guy with the lab but never Anna. Well, I can’t say that any more.

She showed me her wrist. She had a carpal tunnel operation on one wrist and is having the stitches out this week in preparation for an operation on the other. I’ve known a few people who have suffered through CTS and know the pain, but Anna seemed to be bearing it stoically. Either that or she doesn’t have the English to express discomfort and agony.

It was nice seeing her and Emma was happy to let her stroke her, though Freya just stood behind my legs. I think she was desperate to get home, having walked so far without a sleep.

That situation was soon rectified.

That was the scene not long after our return.